Weary
by The Fallen Sky
Summary: Superman saved them. But at what cost?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Weary  
Author: The Fallen Sky  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Chlark  
Summary: Superman saved them. But at what cost?  
Warning: Major angst  
A/N: This story is set in a future AU. There are two POVs in this story. The First Person POV, in Chapter One, is Clark's, while the Third Person POV, in Chapter Two, focuses on Chloe. There's not much else to say, other than my muse could really use some happy pills or something, because she really poured on the sadness with this one. Sorry about that.

Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!

* * *

Noise.

It's everywhere.

I can't escape it.

I'm always aware of it, can always hear it. Even when I'm not using my enhanced hearing, it's always there, a dull hum in my ears. I do my best to ignore it, but it wears on me, slowly grinding down my resolve until I can't ignore it anymore, and then the dull hum explodes into a cacophony of sound.

I hear everything.

Gunshots, explosions, screeching tires, crunching metal, shattering glass, crackling flames, booming thunder, roaring winds, raging waters, rumbling earth, crumbling buildings, breaking bones, tearing flesh...they bombard me, all of them hitting me at once, all of the sounds melding together but each one distinct and separate, each one a signal that I'm needed somewhere.

It never ends.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, the sounds are there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even when I'm asleep, I'm still aware of them.

It wears on me.

xXxXxXx

Voices.

They're everywhere.

I can't escape them.

I'm always aware of them, can always hear them. Even when I'm not using my enhanced hearing, they're always there, a dull hum in my ears. I do my best to ignore them, but they wear on me, slowly grinding down my resolve until I can't ignore them anymore, and then the dull hum explodes into a cacophony of sound.

I hear everything.

Screams of anguish, terror and pain, cries of sadness, despair and fear, calls for help, prayers for rescue and salvation, vicious taunts, angry threats, pleas for mercy, malicious lies...they bombard me, all of them hitting me at once, all of the voices melding together but each one distinct and separate, each one a signal that I'm needed by someone.

It never ends.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, the voices are there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even when I'm asleep, I'm still aware of them.

It wears on me.

xXxXxXx

Her heartbeat.

It's always there.

I can't escape it.

I'm always aware of it, can always hear it. Even when I'm not using my enhanced hearing, it's always there, a dull hum in my ears. I do my best to ignore it, but it wears on me, slowly grinding down my resolve until I can't ignore it anymore, and then the dull hum explodes into a deafening, thunderous pounding.

I hear everything.

The slow and steady rhythm of relaxation and sleep, the rapid staccato of excitement, arousal or fear, the flutter of deep affection and love, the broken and disjointed wobble of sadness...they bombard me, all of them hitting me in turn, each one a signal that she's alive and well.

It never ends.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, her heartbeat is always there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even when I'm asleep, I'm still aware of it.

It wears on me.

xXxXxXx

Her voice.

It's always there.

I can't escape it.

I'm always aware of it, can always hear it. Even when I'm not using my enhanced hearing, it's always there, a dull hum in my ears. I do my best to ignore it, but it wears on me, slowly grinding down my resolve until I can't take it anymore, and then the dull hum explodes into a deafening shout.

I hear everything.

Muttered curses under her breath, tough questions seeking the truth, defensive statements, accusations, orders, tears and muted sobs, lilting and raucous laughter, girlish giggles, sultry whispers, contented purrs, gasps and moans of pleasure, screams of ecstasy, heartfelt confessions of love...they bombard me, all of them hitting me in turn, each one a signal that she's alive and well, that she's moved on, that she doesn't need me.

It never ends.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, her voice is always there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even when I'm asleep, I'm still aware of it.

It wears on me.

xXxXxXx

My loneliness, sadness and despair.

They're always there.

I can't escape them.

I'm always aware of them, can always feel them. Even when I'm surrounded by people calling my name and cheering for me, or when I'm with other members of the Justice League, or when I'm with my friends or my mother, they're always there, a dull ache in my chest. I do my best to ignore them, but they wear on me, slowly grinding down my resolve, and I'm afraid that, one day, I won't be able to take it anymore, and then the dull ache will explode, shattering my heart and turning my soul to dust.

I feel everything.

The weight of all the people I've failed to save, the weight of all the people I have yet to save, the weight of an unwanted destiny, the weight of power undreamed of and the responsibility that comes with it, the weight of knowing that no matter how much I do, how many lives I save, it will never be enough, the weight of knowing that I'll never have a normal life, will never have a wife and children, the weight of knowing that the woman I love, my best friend, the reason I continue to fight even when I feel like giving up doesn't love me anymore, not the way she used to, not the way I want her to, not the way I _need_ her to...they weigh on me, all of them taking their toll, slowly crushing my soul and sapping my spirit, each of them a punishment for some unknown crime I must have committed, some wrong I perpetrated.

It never ends.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep, every second of every day, the burden of my destiny, of who I am is always there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even when I'm asleep, I'm still aware of it, can never escape it.

It wears on me.

xXxXxXx

Calm, quiet, peace and contentment.

They're new to me.

I've never felt them before, not like this, not so completely.

I don't ever want to escape from them, don't ever want to lose this feeling, don't ever want to go back to before.

The pain, the sadness, the loneliness, the burden...they're all gone. Erased, like they never existed. Only a faint echo in my mind of before, of what was, reminds me that there even _was_ a before.

I feel nothing.

The guilt of not saving those who needed saving, the sense of duty and responsibility to use my powers to help everyone, the doubt of whether I'm worthy of the praise and admiration that's heaped upon me, the hopelessness I feel when I realize the struggle, the fight to help and save people will never end, the fear that I'll always be alone, that I'll live forever and never be loved by the one person I love above all others...they no longer weigh on me, no longer crush my spirit, wound my soul or break my heart.

It's finally ended.

From the moment I was born to this moment, the burden of my destiny, of who I am was always there, beckoning to me, mocking me. Even as I did my very best to avoid and escape my fate, to be normal, to live the life I wanted, I was still aware of it, could never escape it.

It wore on me.

Now, at long last, I'm free.


	2. Chapter 2

She stands over his broken body, his flesh scored with angry bruises and vicious gashes, his suit torn and in tatters, stained with his blood.

His eyes are open, staring, unseeing, into the distance. The light that used to spark behind those eyes has extinguished, snuffed out by a monster designed for death and destruction, a monster made specifically to kill him. And it has.

He's dead.

His chest no longer rises and falls. His heart no longer beats.

He's gone.

He fought the monster, the beast, and he won.

Doomsday's corpse lies a mere few feet away, its head separated from its body, its red eyes no longer gleaming with evil intent, its thunderous roars no longer echoing in the air, no longer causing terror in every heart that heard them, its powerful arms and hands no longer toppling buildings, no longer tearing apart flesh and ending lives.

A monster thought unstoppable, has been stopped.

Superman saved them. But at what cost?

Victory meant death, and Superman was willing to pay that price, the ultimate price, and he did.

Looking down at her friend, at what's left of the handsome farmboy she fell so hard for so many years ago, she feels a part of herself die.

There's a lump in her throat, and she finds it increasingly difficult to breathe as she thinks of the years they spent together, their friendship and what it meant to her, what _he_ meant to her. There was a time when he was everything to her, her very reason for being, but that ended when she finally realized that he would never love her the way she loved him, would never need her the way she needed him.

She moved on, found someone to love who loved her back, someone who wanted and needed her the way she always wanted _him_ to want and need her.

Now, seeing his lifeless body laid out at her feet, she's realizing she never really moved on, was never able to take back the huge portion of her heart she gave to him so long ago. It still belongs to him. _She_ still belongs to him, and she always will.

He's gone, and he took part of her with him. The world, _her_ world, will never be the same.

Tears well in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her legs feel like rubber, her knees buckling beneath her as she sinks to the ground by his side.

Her hand, shaking with emotion, touches the rapidly cooling skin of his face, her fingers gently brushing a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead before tracing the ridge of his brow, the curve of his cheek, the outline of his lips.

A choked sob wracks her body, causing her to shudder. Hot tears begin streaming down her face, a testament to her sorrow and her love.

Cupping his face in her hands, she leans over his unmoving form, her lips precariously close to his, her breath hot against his cooling skin.

Her eyes search his, looking for some sign that the boy she knew, the man she loves is still there, still with her, but all she sees is emptiness, an ocean of blue so deep it threatens to drown her, and she finds herself wishing that she could drown in his eyes, in her sorrow, anything to take away the pain.

Regret burns in her chest, like a thousand knives stabbing her heart at once. She regrets all the things she never said to him, regrets all the times that she lied to him, and herself, about her feelings for him, regrets her cowardice when she had the opportunity to lay claim to his heart but rejected it in favor of protecting her own, regrets pushing him away in a vain attempt to move on from him and find some sort of peace and happiness. Most of all, she regrets that she'll never have the chance to correct her mistakes, to tell him all the things she should have told him, to tell him she needs him as surely as she needs air to breathe, to tell him she loves him beyond all reason, more than life itself, to tell him she's sorry for not waiting for him to fly back to her, like she promised so many years ago.

She'd give anything to have a second chance to change things, to make things right, to love him the way she's always wanted, to give him the family he'd dreamed of since he was a little boy.

It's too late, now.

There are no more second chances, no more do-overs.

She had opportunities, but she let them all slip through her fingers, like grains of sand, and now her hands are empty, like her soul.

Her tears continue to fall, dripping onto his face, mingling with his drying blood. Her sobs have subsided, and her breathing has evened.

She continues to search his unseeing eyes, but she no longer feels hope that she'll find what she's looking for. Instead, she's resigned, reluctantly accepting of the fact that this is goodbye, that her best friend, the love of her life is gone forever.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she manages to find her voice, a barely audible whisper filled with raw, heartbreaking emotion.

"I love you, Clark."

Her eyes slip shut, and her lips touch his, a tender, lingering kiss of love and devotion, a joining of souls.


End file.
